


Herpo The Foul

by LunasWufei



Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21656707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunasWufei/pseuds/LunasWufei
Summary: Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with Harry Potter.
Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556170
Comments: 1
Kudos: 84





	Herpo The Foul

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with Harry Potter.

_ “Accredited with creation of the first Horcrux, Herpo the Foul was one of the most vile and evil wizards ever to blight the world with his presence. It is clearly a glory and blessing that he is long since dead, as it is said even the fearsome Grindelwald did not compare.”  _

  
  


Tom Riddle put the book, Dark Lords, Past and Present, down and stroked the Gaunt family signet ring on his finger. Horcrux, that sounded, good. Yes, however there was very little in the library about it. He smiled, though, as he knew there was someone who could assist him. There were several someones, really, but the one he had in mind had some real authority. Yes, he would visit his favorite teacher. 

  
  
~HtF~

  
  


“Merlin’s beard… seven Horcruxes. That is absurd, once is enough… but tearing the soul seven times.” Professor Horace Slughorn muttered to himself, sitting down and wringing his hands together in frustration. That was terrible to think of, to say the least. He shook his head and then got up, he had to speak to someone else. He made his way to the Deputy Headmasters office, knocking softly. When he entered he sighed, glad that Dumbledore was in there.    
  
  
“Ah, Horace, do come in.” Dumbledore said, smiling at the younger man. “What can I do for you?” He asked, a quick flick of his wand conjuring a chair for the heavier man. He sat down with a sigh and looked at the bearded colleague.    
  
  
“I wish to inquire about the… summer arrangements for a student. They are going through some rather difficult times, and I want to make sure they don't dread returning home for the summer.” Horace said, sighing as he marveled silently at the comfort the simple conjured chair gave him. 

  
  


“Hmmm, there is only so much I can do as the deputy, but I will try my best. Who is this child, Horace?” Dumbledore asked, genial tone in place.

“Young Tom Riddle, Albus. I just see so much potential in him. If only he ha-” He was cut off by the older man, a sigh and shake of his head there, and his genial tone gone, it was replaced with a slightly cold one. 

  
  


“I am afraid that is not possible. Tom must stay at Wool’s Orphanage, it is his home. If that is all, Horace, I have paperwork to get to.” Dumbledore said, almost glaring at his old friend. Horace was surprised, to say the very least, but nodded and got up.    
  
  
“Very well, Deputy Headmaster. Have a prosaic evening.” The heavy set man said, before he got up and left. This was completely ridiculous, and he was not going to let such a soul fall to darkness. No, he was not. 

  
~HtF~

  
  


Tom growled and almost slammed the book on the table, but he knew better as Madame Pince would not appreciate it. He moved the volumes back to the shelf with a flick of his wand, and was then surprised when the last one on the pile was plucked from the air.    
  
  
“Such a smart lad, Tom, and you are reading such foul literature.” Came the sad, and disappointed tones of Prof. Slughorn. “No, no, don’t say a word. Come with me, we have much to discuss.” He said, and then gestured for the young man to follow. They walked in silence, going to the second floors girls bathroom, causing Tom to freeze for a moment, before he kept following the man inside. It was closed off, there had been some flooding and the house elves were still working on it. 

  
  


_~Open.~_ Said not Tom, but Horace, the faucets opening revealing a deep chasm that lead into darkness.    
  


  
“Professor?” Tom asked, not scared, but confused and alarmed.    
  
  
“Just follow me, Tom. Now is not the time for questions.” Horace said, before he spoke again in the serpent tongue. ~Stairs and lights.~ As the words left his mouth stone stairs, with handrails as well, slid from the wall, with lights illuminating the walls as they went down. The passageway closed behind them but there was plenty of light. They traveled in silence, with Horace opening a few more passages. Then, in front of them was the visage of Salazar Slytherin, immortalized in stone. 

“The year was 634 BC, as muggles call it, and I was in my prime. Hundreds, upon thousands, of wizards and witches followed my every word. At my beck and call they were, and it was truly a magnificent era.” Horace said, looking at a surprised Tom, just as his visage changed. Gone was the portly, short man, and in its place was a taller gentleman, with silver hair and beard. Gooseberry eyes faded into a vibrant yellow, and his wand shifted to a serpent staff.

  
  


“Then I got paranoid, and in my paranoia I made a terrible mistake. I tore my soul in two. I committed murder, a foul, despicable act. I took that opportunity to make the first ever soul vessel, the first ever Horcrux.” Horace, no, Herpo the Foul, said to the terrified teenager in front of him.    
  
  


“I am almost 2700 years old, Tom, I have lived far too long. I have seen loved ones die, I have seen my nation crumble. I have seen civilization crash upon itself!” He said, almost yelling now, staff slamming into the floor, echoing ominously. 

  
  


“Then, as I walked through the forests of what we now know as Scotland, I met four amazing youngsters. You know them now as the founders, I knew them as family.” He said, smiling softly.    
  
  
“At that time I had been taken a new name, one given to me by a babe I had saved from a rather angry old bear. The lass called me Merlin, it stuck.” He said, smiling at the astonished look Tom had now. He moved his staff slightly and chairs appeared, both of them sitting. “I taught them magic, magic long since lost to the world. Salazar.” Horace trailed after that name, gazing at the stone statue in the back of the chamber. 

  
  


“He was more than just a friend to me, he was my son. The others, I held them close, but to me he was blood. I learned, after many years and several potion failures, that he was actually my great, many times over, grandson. We bonded well after that, and while the others were close, he was literally blood.” Horace sipped his tea and leaned back, Tom in rapt attention. 

  
  


“I gifted him my sweet Belladonna, I had just hatched her after his 76th birthday, she was so sweet. I visit her often, you know, it keeps her sane.” He said, smiling and then slipping into the serpent tongue once more. ~ _Sweet, sweet Belladonna, come to your grandfather, he’s missed you.~_ He said, and then Tom shuddered at the near deafening snarl, followed by a tone that could only be described as that of a lost child. 

  
  


~ _Grandfather? Oh, you have returned to see me! I have things to tell you, such marvelous, and strange things!_ ~ The voice said, and from the statue came the largest snake Tom had ever seen. She was at least 70ft long, and about 10ft wide and tall. Her eyes were a deep green, and Tom was mesmerized. She slithered over, not even acknowledging the younger male, Horace having stood up to meet the great beast. She leaned down and lightly nudged the older male, getting a stroke to her snout, eyes closed in pleasure it seemed. 

  
  


“I know you cannot speak it, my dear, but I know you understand it. I am also aware my friend here speaks the tongue, but sometimes it is a little taxing on mere humans.” Horace said to the snake, Belladonna if Tom was certain, and got a soft hiss in affirmative. “Join us, you need not speak if you do not like, but I know you do love the company.” He said, Belladonna resting her head next to the older males chair, getting caressed like a gargantuan pet. Tom took this time, this silence to actually, finally speak. 

  
  


“You’re Herpo the Foul,  _ and _ Merlin Ambrosius?” Tom asked, not disbelieving, but he needed it reaffirmed.    
  
  
“That is correct, Tom.” Horace said. “I know better than anyone alive, or dead, the foulness that is a Horcrux. I had thought I destroyed the last books on them, or kept them away. It seems, however, that idiots wish to bring it up once more. That happened once before, around 1443, I nipped that in the butt!” He said, huffing softly with a gentle smile afterwards. 

  
  


“You’re a good soul, Tom, you have potential. I do not want to see that potential ruined. One is bad enough, but seven? It is completely unacceptable, it would no doubt lead to insanity.” He sighed softly, shaking his head. “I know how to destroy them, after all, why make a spell with no counter?” He looked at Tom seriously as he continued. 

  
  


“As I said, you have potential, and I am going to do what I can to make sure said potential is not ruined. That said potential is not tossed aside for silly things like prejudice and bigotry. So because of that, Tom, I have decided that this summer you will  _ not _ be returning to your poor excuse for a residence.” He said, huffing softly and shaking his head. “No, not at all. This summer you shall reside with me, after all, it’s not every day you get to be an apprentice to a Potions master older than the profession itself.” He smirked at the astonished look on the teenagers face. 

  
  


“Now, I am sure you have many questions. Ask, Tom, ask.” Horace said, leaning back and smiling at the opening salvo of questions, knowing for a fact that he had saved this soul. He had performed many things in his horrid past, but he had been using his immortality for good now, and he would be damned if he stopped. 


End file.
